Page 52 of Bad Luck

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My fingers close around the coverlet, and I slowly slide it down, exposing all of Andie’s gloriously bare skin inch by beautiful inch. Christ, my lass is a gorgeous woman.

Once it is lying at her feet, I crawl onto the bed, spreading her thighs and burying my face between her legs. Licking through her folds, I nip at her clit, savoring her sweet taste as she wakes up with a start, moaning and thrusting her hips.

“Connor,” she gasps, tangling her fingers through my hair. “I need you inside me.”

Jesus fuck. I don’t need to be told twice. With one last nip at Andie’s clit, I rise to my knees, flipping her over and tugging her up until she’s on her hands and knees before me.

When I thrust into her, Andie’s head tips up, and she arches her back, throwing her hips back eagerly.

“God, yes, Connor,” she whimpers. “So good.”

Fuck. She can’t say shite like that, not if she wants me to fucking last. Pumping my hips, I grab her shoulder and tug her up until her back is pressed against my front, anchoring her with my arm across her chest.

I don’t let up my pace, and Andie’s head tips back, resting on my shoulder, her hands gripping the arm I have across her chest as she comes, gasping my name.

I groan into her ear as her pussy clamps down almost painfully tightly.

“Feck, I’m not going to last,achuislemochroí,” I growl as I come, my hips stopping, and I pant against her temple.

I tip Andie’s face to mine, kissing her lazily as we collapse onto the bed in a tangle of limbs, attempting to catch our breath.

“Say something to me in Irish,” Andie commands, still sounding breathless. She reaches over to take my hand where it is laying on the bed between us. I look over at her, my eyebrows rising.

“Like what,achuislemochroí?”

She rolls her eyes, snickering. “Not a nickname. Like a sentence. Or a fact, or something.”

I study her silently, rolling over, throwing my leg over hers, and reaching down to brush a stray lock of hair from her face. I know exactly what I want to say to her.

“Is breá liom tú,” I murmur, leaning down and pressing a kiss against her nose. And I do. I fucking love the lass. I have no idea when it happened, but I guess Seamus and Paddy were fucking right. Pricks.

“Same,” Andie sighs. I freeze above her. Jesus fuck. Can the lass understand Irish?

“Really?” I ask her, insanely hopeful. But Andie laughs, shaking her head. My heart plummets.

“I have no idea what you just said,” she admits with a giggle. That’s better than her saying she doesn’t love me.

I force a smile, dropping another kiss on her nose, rolling onto my back, tugging her against my chest as she asks how Paddy and mymissionwent.

“We’re not in the army, lass.”

“Was he at least unconscious when you left him?”

I bite back a grin at her bloodthirstiness. “He was conscious, lass.”

She sighs in a way that manages to sounddisappointed.

“But barely,” I concede. Andie giggles softly again.

“Thank you,” she mumbles. She’s almost asleep. Pressing a kiss into her hair, I cuddle her tightly to me.

“I’d do anything for ye,achuislemochroí. I love ye,” I whisper, but she’s already asleep.

Chapter EIGHTEEN

ANDIE

Googling Irish is impossible. Apparently, it isnota phonetic language. Not even close. I know when he calls me “lan-awn” he’s calling me sweetheart because Lauren knew that one.


Tags: K.S. Ellis Romance